


The Midnight Pool Rendezvous

by KAZ1167



Series: I Want to Swim With You [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Free!, Established Relationship, F/M, Honestly it's pretty close to PWP, Locker Room Sex, Pool Sex, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAZ1167/pseuds/KAZ1167
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We’re not breaking into the school pool to…No, Korra.” </p>
<p>“Are you sure about that?”  She pulls his hand in the direction of their high school and he lets his feet follow her path against his better judgment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Midnight Pool Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> A few people suggested I continue the Makorra Free! AU and then someone suggested I write a pool or locker room sex scene, so here it is: the Makorra midnight pool rendezvous… I guess water inspires me? I’m becoming Haru,send help.

His heart pounds in his chest, knuckles white from clenching the metal railing preventing their entire swim team from tumbling from their place in the stands.  She’s positioned to start, the crowd quieting, until the buzzer rings and she pushes off of the wall, back arching with her entrance, the cheers coming back at double the volume.  Bolin’s booming voice as he leads their team’s chant would normally be enough to give him a headache, but he’s barely aware of it, his own voice caught in his throat, his eyes glued to the blur in the water. 

She’d done it again; she’d made it to nationals for the second year in a row.  Mako and Asami had made it as well, both placing in the top six for the 100m freestyle and 100m butterfly respectively, but Korra had a shot to  _win_ , just as she had done the previous year. Her times had improved and she’d blown away the competition during regionals, but nothing was guaranteed until she was actually racing in the pool at nationals.

And now she was, lean body gliding through the pool with trained ease.

And she was winning.

She nears the end of the pool and turns, her strong legs propelling her past her competitors, increasing her lead.  With twenty-five meters to go, she’s at least half a body’s length ahead of the next strongest swimmer.

_She’s going to win._

A few more strokes and he’s grabbing Bolin’s hand next to his on the railing.  His voice finally breaks through the lump in his throat.

“ _ **Go Korra!!**_ " 

Her hand touches the wall, followed by an array of others, but the number “1” flashes by her name in little green lights as she pulls off her goggles and swim cap. The smile on her face is everything he loves about her, wide and bursting at the seams with energy, and she cheers, pumping her arm in the air as the crowd breaks into an uproar. Even for the anonymous crowd, it’s exciting—it’s the first time someone’s won the 100m backstroke two years in a row. 

Bolin crushes him in a hug before bursting into tears and pulling Coach Tenzin into the most awkward hug-like thing Mako’s ever seen, Jinora’s practically bouncing (which is rare since she’s usually the calmest of their bunch), and Iroh has Asami wrapped in an embrace that looks a little more affectionate than the one armed hug he’d just given Jinora.  Mako’s attention centers back in on Korra as she climbs out of the pool, accepting the congratulations from those on the pool deck with only minimal focus as she searches for their team’s spot in the stands.  

Her gaze seems to pass somewhere overhead before she spots him, and seconds after their eyes lock he’s weaving through the crowd, deftly edging through people as he takes the quickest route from the stands to the locker rooms to the pool deck.  He’s only a few steps out of the locker room when she barrels at his chest, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug that’ll soak his Republic City High jacket. 

"Mako, I did it! Two years in a row!"

He hugs her tighter, spinning her around once before crushing her to him, and he can’t help the laugh that spills from his lips. 

"I knew you could! I’m so proud of you, Korra! You were amazing!" 

"Thank you, and I love you, and, I just, I can’t believe I did it!"  She draws back, pressing her lips against his before he has time to reply, to tell her just how much he loves her, but he thinks she knows when he kisses her back with double the intensity. 

 

_____

 

They leave Asami’s celebratory party a bit earlier than the others, enjoying the warm night as they slowly make their way to Korra’s house. Side by side, Mako listens to Korra ramble about the race and the day’s events, adding a nod or affirmative comment here or there, before taking her hand in his.  While they had started dating three months ago, the heart of their relationship had hardly changed: Korra still pulled Mako from his tub every morning, they still bickered over dumb things, and they still found time for their friends, school work, swimming, but  _other things_ had changed, changed in ways he’d only let himself guiltily imagine once or twice in the tub after awaking from a particularly potent dream.

Being close to her wasn’t a new thing, but with the removal of the “just friends” barrier between them, the need for more than just a few moments of holding her hand when he got out of the bath or letting her rest against his shoulder when she was tired at lunch was practically insatiable. The convenience of Korra’s otherwise empty house—something she used to bemoan, hating the utter silence when her parents were frequently out of town for her father’s position as a diplomat—was now a blessing, allowing them privacy from Bolin and ample opportunities for them to explore each other in a mess of tangled embraces.  They were both passionate about the things they loved, and they  _loved_  each other, the first kiss she gave him creating an all-consuming addiction to each other’s touch.  That first kiss turned into warm lips on his shoulders, her neck, his chest, her collarbone, his abs.  Kisses led to hands pushing off her uniform shirt and fumbling with her bra when she climbed into his lap and straddled him, sliding her hand into his pants and laughing at finding jammers in place of boxers.  Fumbling became knowing, knowing where she liked to be kissed, how she liked to be touched, and just how he liked to be kissed and touched in return. 

She tugs on his hand, snapping him out of his daze, staring up at him expectantly.

“Uh, can you say that again?” She sighs and rolls her eyes at him, a little smile pulling at her lips. 

“ _I said_ , we should go swimming.” 

“Okay, we can go tomorrow.”  Her little smile becomes a teasing grin and he knows whatever she’s about to suggest is going to be trouble. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘right now,’ in a  _private_  pool we just  _happen_  to have a key to,  _Captain_.” 

"We’re not breaking into the school pool to…No, Korra.” 

“Are you sure about that?”  She pulls his hand in the direction of their high school and he lets his feet follow her path against his better judgment.

 

_____

 

She glances over her shoulder from her place at the starting block, the smirk playing at her mouth too tempting to ignore, before she dives in gracefully, the once calm water breaking into waves when it allows her entrance.  When she surfaces, she pushes the hair clinging to her face back and watches him closely, swimming to the edge where he stands.  

"What’s taking you so long?  Get in here." 

"Korra, if we get caught—"

"We won’t.  Now strip down to the jammers I _know_ you’re wearing and jump in.”   She laughs while she gently pushes off the wall, slipping into a lazy version of her backstroke.  He rolls his eyes at her comment, refusing to concede that  _yes, he’s wearing his jammers under his shorts_ , as he pulls off his shirt and shorts, tossing them on top of the pile where her tank top and jean shorts lie.  He’s about to jump in when he glances at her and finds himself frozen in place, awestruck by how beautiful she looks gliding through the water before slowing to just float on her back, eyes closed and a content smile on her face as the inky sky and silver sliver of moon reflect off of the water.  He’s still getting used to  _letting_  himself look at her, letting his gaze trail down from her face to the navy bra she’s opted to swim in to the flat plane of her stomach to the muscled thighs he loves having wrapped around his waist. 

"You know I can feel when you’re watching me, right?  It’s something I’ve picked up on after years of being your best friend."  

He isn’t sure if she keeps talking after that; he dives in, sliding through the water and swimming to her side at the shallow end of the pool. 

She opens her eyes when he pops up and out of the water, running his hand through his wet hair.  He sees the way her eyes trail over his neck and down his chest, and he wonders if she’s following the drops of water slipping down his skin.  The idea sends a rush of warmth through his chest and his stomach before settling lower, and he’s quickly made aware of the slight increase in pressure in his tight jammers. 

"Do you think I  _can’t_  tell when you’re staring at me?  Come on, Korra, whatever our little ‘psychic’ bond is, it goes both ways.”  She flushes slightly at that, like she’s surprised to hear that she hadn’t always been as successful at hiding her feelings as she had thought.  

_She’s so beautiful._

He drags his hand up from her wrist, fingertips drawing over her forearm and biceps, trailing over her shoulder and collar bone, before making their way down her other arm.  He feels her gaze fixated on him like a heavy but pleasant weight pressing on his chest, forcing his heartbeat into a frenzied thump.  He starts up her arm again, detouring when he reaches the start of her collarbone, sliding down her side, his palm just grazing the top of her breast when she inhales sharply, before trailing down her rib-cage, his palm flattening out over the slick skin of her stomach. She shivers under his touch and he swallows hard when he sees the goosebumps covering her skin before repeating the process on her other side.

This time his hand crosses the same path as before—her arm to her collarbone, then just over her breast, before settling on her stomach—but he slowly drags two fingers further down, dipping when they move over her belly button and to the edge of her underwear, just barely crossing over the wet fabric before languidly retracing his steps up her body. 

She’s so  _damn_  beautiful and he’s  _so hard_.  

He barely has time to process the change from her floating position in the pool to her wrapping her legs and arms around him, pressing herself tight against him when her lips meet his.  She shifts in his embrace and he audibly moans when she slides up against his erection.  Her mouth is hot against his, their kisses messy with too much tongue, but neither of them cares, too desperate for  _more_  of each other. 

The water sloshes around them with their almost frantic movements, lapping over them in a gentle touch of its own when he slides the straps of her bra off of her shoulders, pulling down the cups, sucking in a breath when she’s fully exposed. He adjusts her against him, pulling her legs up higher around his waist so he’s level with her chest, and his mouth meets the cool skin of her breast, tongue swirling around her pert nipple.  Her hands clutch at his wet hair, her head back as she gasps and moans loudly when he bites down on the bud gently, lavishing it with attention, before he moves to the other one, letting his palm replace his mouth. 

“ _Ah_ , Mako, more.”  This was his favorite part of exploring this new side of their relationship; learning what made her moan, what made her curse at him in breathy tones, what made her wet, what made her come.  Seeing her unravel before him (and feeling himself unravel because of her) was better than any wet dream he’d ever had. 

A moment of realization hits him, pulling him out of the heat caused by their kisses and her body flush against his when he remembers that they’re in public, in the middle of the night, trespassing on school property, moments away from defiling their swim club’s pool. 

"Korra," he says, breaking their kiss before her lips are pressing against his again, muffling his words. "Korra, we’re not having sex in the pool." 

He can feel the smile pulling at her cheeks when she drops her arms from his shoulders, letting her legs hold her against him, dragging her hands over his chest, mouthing at the sensitive spot between his collarbone and neck that has a surprising powerful influence on his lower body. 

“ _Korra._ "  Did he say that with enough conviction?  He isn’t sure—it’s become increasingly difficult to think as she palms him through his suit, her lips kissing and sucking at his neck.

“ _Fine_ , fine, locker room?”

He wants to say ”we should wait until we get to your house,” but instead he pulls her head down to his, kissing her again, and nodding against her lips.  He breaks away first, swimming to the pool’s ladder with Korra close behind him.  His feet hit the cement ledge of the pool and he watches as he pulls her from the water, staring at the way the drops run down her chest and legs, dripping off of her in a way that’s sure to stay in his mind for days, and suddenly the locker room feels very, very far away. The pause at the pile of clothing as he grabs a condom feels painfully long.  He’d practically be pulling her to the locker room if her pace wasn’t just as hurried as his.

The locker room is bathed in just enough moonlight from the window’s high on the wall and carry over from the streetlamps outside for them to avoid turning on the lights, which is good since Mako isn’t sure he’d be able to remember where the light switch is right now, when Korra pushes him against the locker room door, kissing him hard before trailing her hands down his chest to his jammers.

“I’ve always wanted to do this in here. Thought about it  _a lot_.”  He smiles against her neck, letting something caught between a laugh and groan escape him at her words.  Maybe it’s just something about them and their weird swimming obsession, but  _shit_ , this was one of his go-to fantasies for when he woke up hard and couldn’t shake the dream that had left him that way. She doesn’t bother with teasing, opting to just pull down his jammers.  He sucks in a sharp breath of air when she frees him and his dick slaps against his stomach.  Honestly, in any other moment he’d be embarrassed by how hard he is, but when her mouth slips over him, sucking and swirling her tongue over the head before she bobs down, any thoughts that aren’t purely  _Korra_ quickly evaporate.  She keeps going, up and down,  _up and down_ ,  _upanddown—_

"Ah, Korra, stop or I’ll—"  She releases him with a wet popping sound, still slowly pumping him with her hand when she kisses up his hipbone, his abs, his chest, and finally his lips.  He hears the foil packet rip, feels her hands rolling the condom over him, as his own hands attempt to undo the wet bra that’s just barely holding itself in place.  He struggles momentarily before she reaches back with one hand to swiftly undo the clasp, smiling and softly laughing against his mouth.

“How are you still so bad with bras?”

"Stop laughing at me, it’s just because I can’t see the back of it.”  His pout is grossly apparent in his voice and he wonders why he sounds so damn whiny when he says it like that (but he knows it probably has something to do with the way she’s still running her hand up and down his dick, languid strokes that make him wonder how the hell he’s going to hold out when he’s actually inside her).  She looks up at him, eyes lidded, thin rims of blue circling her blown pupils, her lips kissed red and wet, and—

_Shit._

He picks her up then, her legs wrapping around him, and he turns to press her back against the cool lockers.  He’s remarkably thankful they’re both so strong; she can grip him with her legs and arms around his neck, and he can hold her with one arm while his other hand slips into her underwear.  She’s so wet, he doesn’t hesitate to slide two fingers into her before slowly pulling out and establishing a slow rhythm, his mouth kissing at her neck when her head falls back against the lockers with a loud moan.  Her hand moves to grip his hair, fingers tangling in his damp locks.

Her breath hitches when he moves his fingers away from her core and rubs against her instead, her grip on his hair tightening. She reaches between him then, takes his length in one hand while she pulls aside her underwear with the other, and he uses her guidance to slide into her, his breath releasing in a rush from his chest.  Everything stills for a moment as he holds her against him, the sound of their heavy breaths filling the empty room (he won’t admit it out loud, but his arms feel weak when she just barely rolls herself against him, and he knows he’ll need to hold her with both hands to keep them from collapsing onto the tiled floor).  Her blue eyes flutter open, before he kisses her softly, slowly easing himself into a steady rhythm.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love this ( _hell,_  it feels amazing when he’s with her) but that isn’t the only thing he loves about these moments. 

He loves being the only one to see her this way, loves being the one to draw out those expressions of love and desire, elicit those breathy gasps and weighted moans.  He loves being this close to her, loves feeling the bond that’s always existed between them become stronger. 

In truth, he just loves  _her_.

“I love you too, Mako.”  Her smile sneaks in between her gasps (he didn’t realize he’d actually said that out loud) and the feeling that thrums though him with the soft kiss that follows her smile is light and sweet, a welcome contrast to the coil winding tighter and tighter in his body as they move closer and closer to climax.  His pace quickens, and her free hand grips his shoulder tightly before she breaks away from their kiss, moaning his name when she comes around him, and he follows with a few more thrusts.

His arms and legs are shaking from the exertion and he lets his body fall forward slightly, sandwiching her between his chest and the lockers, before she makes a sound of protest (“You realize how much all that muscle weighs, right?”) and he laughs, mumbling an apology as he pulls out of her, removes the condom, and ties it off before tossing it in the open waste basket near the door.  They can’t exactly cuddle like they would when they are in her bed, but he pulls her close to him, running his hands up and down her back as he leans against the lockers, their positions from earlier flipped.  She settles her head against his chest, her own hands making small movements up and down his slowly cooling skin.  He isn’t sure how long they stand there, but it’s nice, holding her to him like this. 

“So?” He’s the first to break the content quiet encompassing them.

“So what?”

“Did it live up to your fantasies?”  She rolls her eyes at his smile and playfully slaps him on the arm when he laughs, but it doesn’t stop her from sliding her hands to the back of his neck and pulling him down for a fervent kiss.

“It was better.”  The joking tone is gone from her voice, the gaze she lays on him heated and crackling, and he’s unable to look away. She kisses him again and he feels the effect she has on him like a current running through his skin.

This time, he makes the suggestion. 

“Do you want to take a shower?”  The perfectly kissed “o” of her mouth stretches into a smile, and for the second time that night he lets himself follow her as she pulls him in the direction of the open showers.

 

_____

 

They make it back to her house eventually, when the sky is an inky black and the once warm night air is bordering on uncomfortably cool.

She hangs her medal beside the one from last year, and they climb into bed, exhausted from the excitement of the day and their earlier activities.  His arm loosely holds her to him and he’s just about to fall asleep when she turns over, his eyes forced open by her movements, and speaks.

“Mako?”

“Hm?”

“I… I appreciate you being here for me.  That’s all. ”

He wants tells her again how much he loves her, how amazing he thinks she is, because she’s his best friend, his girlfriend, his lover, and so much more to him than those silly, simple labels could ever convey, when her eyes meet his and—

He can’t bring himself to say anything, doesn’t have to say anything.  With them, some things can be left unsaid yet still heard, clear as day.  

“Of course.”  He kisses her forehead, before she turns over again and presses her back to his chest.

“Goodnight, Mako.”

_I love you._

“Night, Korra.”

_I love you too._


End file.
